


No Cameras, No Scripts

by leyline



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bottom Derek, College Student Derek, College Student Stiles, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Pack in College, Porn Video, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Threesome - F/F/F, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4351223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leyline/pseuds/leyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Kate wiped out Derek and his family’s accounts, Derek’s left with close to nothing, no money, no loft, no hope, although the last part changes when he moves in with Stiles and Scott.</p><p>For a while.</p><p>Truth is, the cash-flow in the Stilinski-Hale household has not been exactly flowing ever since Scott left them. </p><p>They're pulling-their-hairs off troubled until Stiles figures it out and the answer seems as simple as ever. Porn. Porn makes money, lots of it. Stiles is a fairly attractive guys with more than fairly attractive friends.</p><p>So Stiles pushes thoughts into taping an adult movie and Derek? Derek could never argue with good logic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Cameras, No Scripts

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR WARNING: This fic is furiously unbetaed and I do have an intense aversion to re-reading my own writing too much (because it usually ends up turning from ah, nice ideas to ugh, why didn't anyone stab me) so if something seems "off-beat" it probably is!! Also, the fic revolves a lot around mentions of sex and sex itself so if that's not your thing I'll probably cry but accept if you turn back now. 
> 
> Only 3 of the pairings listed are romantic (though much is open to interpretation so really take it however you want and really, what classifies as romance is wide range to me but I digress) so you're warned as well.
> 
> Holy shit, I'm so happy I got to participate in this big bang because this is my first big fic, my very first actual fic, that I started AND finished and it's 20k??? HOW COOL IS THAT!! I DID A THING. 
> 
> Oh my god, this is getting longer than the fic, so finally, I wanted to extend a huge thank you to the Sterek Haven admins who were amazing and always accommodating (I'm talking deadlines and everything else really) and just, thank you so much!!!

Stiles loves Scott.

It’s undeniable; he’s loved Scott since they were both ten years old. He’s been with Scott through everything; through the time in second grade when Jackson pushed Scott towards asthma attacks and Stiles would intervene (and already at the time he had the mind to tell every kid his dad owned a gun and was not against letting him use it, which well, in retrospect ended up biting Stiles in the ass when his dad found out); through the time when they finally turned eighteen and Scott and Stiles felt free of reins to experiment their sexuality and kind of let themselves go a little (Stiles still calls it the Major STD Alert, which always makes Scott cringe); through the time when Scott decided to add a third party member to the Scott and Stiles unstoppable duet (Stiles protested a lot at first, and then after a while not so much because Derek is, well, Stiles will push that thought back for now).

He loves Scott, he does, and even though at this point there’s probably nothing Scott could do to ruin that devotion (as if Scott would be capable of anything that would ruin it, dude’s the perfect everything to Stiles’ everything) there’s one thing about Scott that Stiles would very much like to strangle out of him.

Scott has shit timing.

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles asks, leaning further on the bean bag he’s sitting on, hands pressing together tight between his open legs. He intertwines his fingers and brings them to his mouth “You’re what?”

Beside him, leaning back on his own bean bag (the color a horrid pink, a birthday present to Derek about two years ago, from yours truly) Derek takes a sip of his beer, always the nonchalant knight.

Scott looks between them from his place on the R2D2 shaped chair (this one a birthday present from Derek given to Stiles as a moving-in gift, a sort of thank you, which was so Derek-like Stiles couldn’t refuse even if he had wanted to. Which he hadn’t. So, okay, Derek’s fantastic at gift-giving, Stiles had shelved that knowledge at the time).

He’s sitting in front of both of them, back set straight and face determined as he delivers the soul-crushing news.

“They asked me to move in with them.” He smiles like he does back then when they used to be able to afford Isaac’s amazing weed. Stiles doesn’t hate him for it or anything.

“That’s, great, but…Now? That’s–“

“That’s great, Scott.” Derek talks before Stiles can say something along the lines of ‘so not okay I could die’.

Derek reaches out to pat Scott on the knee a few times before letting his hand rest there.

“Congratulations. We know how much you’ve been looking forward to it.” He smiles then, something Stiles hasn’t been able to stop gawking at, never mind that the three of them have been living together for more than four years now.

Scott gets this dreamy look in his face, as if he’s reliving every aspect of his and his two girlfriends’ relationship (which, ugh, he probably is, ugh) and Derek takes the opportunity to turn to Stiles. They look at each other for a second before his jaw clenches slightly as his entire head motions towards Scott.

Stiles narrows his eyes for a bit, tempted to let their earlier conversation go forgotten before he sighs and relents.

“That’s really amazing, dude.” He slaps Scott on the arm, effectively ending whatever godforsaken fantasy he was replaying there. “We’re happy for you. Happy for your awful timed commitment.” He mutters that last part.

Scott beams at them both before his lips start quivering a bit.

“You’re the best friends anyone could ask for and really, getting you guys as roommates these past years has been–“

“I’m gonna stop you right there, buddy, before Derek breaks into a crying fit. You know he gets snot all over the place and I like these bean bags.” Stiles says playfully but truth is his lips were doing a weird thing of their own too.

Derek frowns at him and Stiles just winks back.

Scott squeezes both their hands before getting up in an excited jump.

“Okay, I’m gonna Skype Allison and Lydia right now!” His eyes and voice soften when he looks down at them “Thank you for this, seriously. It means a lot to me.”

Stiles finally deflates completely.

“I love you, dude. I just want you happy.” He says as he swipes a hand across his face.

“We want you happy.” Derek repeats as he gets up and sets his beer on the kitchen counter.

It’s more a conjoint kitchen-living room so it doesn’t take him long to get there.

Scott’s sincere smile hits Stiles right in the head, like a brain freeze from a too cold drink “I love you dudes.”

He shuts the door to his bedroom.

Stiles lets his head fall to his hands. He sighs deeply.

“We knew this was happening soon.” Derek says as he comes back to hand Stiles a beer from the fridge. Stiles could kiss him, he thinks as he takes a swig “You’re the one who agreed we shouldn’t tell him.”

“Yeah, well, that was then and this is now. I thought soon would be further away than three weeks after they started dating.”

Derek reaches out to place his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing slightly at the spot. Stiles groans and not for the first time asks himself when Derek’s touch went from slightly terrifying to the most grounding feeling he has ever had.

“We can make this work.” He says as a repetition to what Stiles had said to him a week ago. Then he smiles ruefully “We’ve been through worse.”

And Derek’s right, they have been through a lot together. They’ve gone from antagonism to trust, from college acquaintances to roommates to friends, to a point where the words Derek and Stiles just feel right together. When Scott first bought Derek into their apartment Stiles didn’t believe for a second they could be more than grunts and Stiles pranking Derek into leaving, and Derek throwing him against flat surfaces in warning.

And yet, they’ve been through worse. And they survived and they’re not letting go.

Whatever Stiles is about to say next is interrupted by Scott when he pokes his head out of his room. He’s waving three DualShocks at them.

“Hey, you guys wanna play Lego Star Wars?”

When Scott first bought his Playstation, they’d agree he’d keep it in his room as per Derek’s request. Scott agreed but not without promptly letting them know that his room would always be open for them to take use of his gaming treasure even when he was away. God, how Stiles loves Scott.

“Come on,” Derek says, hand squeezing Stiles’ shoulder one last time before sliding off “you can be Yoda. I’ll be R2 and jump to my death.”

Stiles’ mouth quirks up. Damn Derek, he knows how much Stiles loves it to torture R2D2 into jumping out of fatal heights just so he can hear his hilarious screams.

Huh. Stiles might have some issues regarding robots.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Derek’s words echo along Stiles’ mind for the next few days. He sees Scott pack up his things (says a dramatic goodbye to the Playstation he will see much less of, which earns him a laugh and a playful punch from Scott) and he realizes that this is it. This is really happening. Scott’s moving out of their shared apartment and it will just be Stiles and Derek.

Under normal circumstances, Stiles wouldn’t bat an eyelash at this. Sure, he and Derek were a long time coming and at first they needed Scott as that mutual friend, the lifeline to not-so-awkward conversations, but now it’s true what Derek said, they’ve been through a lot and it has made them friends. It has made them close. Stiles still thinks it’s weird but it’s true.

No, under normal circumstances he wouldn’t mind it much, he’s kind of sick of coming home and catching Lydia making out with Scott in their kitchen counter (which infuriated Stiles when it happened in high school and he caught them making out near the lockers and is still weird now even if his infatuation with Lydia has subsided), or Scott and Allison humping each other on the couch, or Allison and Lydia (seriously, Scott wasn’t even there, couldn’t they have done it at their own homes?) taking an impromptu shower, the thin wall absent their mind, or the three of them that one time…God, the point is, Stiles could live without that. Under normal circumstances.

But circumstances have left the McHaleInski (Scott actually hanged a sign with the name on their door) household on short cash supplies and Stiles isn’t being insensitive or anything, he’ll obviously miss Scott to death, but the truth is Scott is the one who pulls most of the weight in their lease, what with his steady job as a veterinarian and the money he occasionally gets from his motorbike competitions, commercials he gets paid to do…Yeah, Scott an all-around guy. It shamed Stiles a little to let Scott do that for them (and Derek a lot) until he realized they actually really needed it.

Derek used to help out a lot, back in the day when they could afford Ben & Jerry’s every five days and going out to dinner every other day, given that his family was quite wealthy, until circumstances happened.

Stiles doesn’t like to think of that time, the anger, the shouting, the blaming (more self-blaming on Derek’s side, more anger and shouting on Derek’s uncle’s side) but he knows the summary because, even though Derek was very secretive about the entire thing (to the point Scott doesn’t even know what really happened), Stiles was brought up under a Sheriff’s wing and he knows out to do his detective work. Even when he shouldn’t.

Summary is, Derek fell in love with a bomb-shell of a woman, a woman by the name of Kate who worked him over in every way possible, who made him believe their love was the greatest thing ever created by humanity and then who made him broke. Beautiful, loving Kate turned out to be a real manipulative bitch, who with a bunch of nice places words and very good timing managed to strip Derek of his family’s inheritance and ran away to god knows where, leaving Scott and Stiles and their close group of friends to pick up the pieces.

Even after all this time, Stiles sometimes gazes at Derek, when he’s sitting by himself on the couch, slowly falling asleep and can’t help but wonder if there are still pieces out there they just couldn’t manage to find.

Derek is more open with them now, but Stiles knows how good he is at hiding things, which is only proven when a week before Scott sits them down to deliver his amazing news, their landlord knocks on their door.

“You’re late. Again.” Is the only thing he says when Stiles, hair rustled, shirtless and toothbrush still in his mouth Stiles opens the door.

“Ash ‘n d bashroom?” Stiles points behind him, indicating he was in the bathroom and their apartment is a shoe box, he took like, three seconds maximum getting from there to here and Harris hadn’t even warned him he was coming, god, what a jerk.

Harris pushes his glasses up his nose and glares.

“Your lease, Mr. Stilinski. And it’s not the first time you and your roommates” He spits out the word and Stiles would have punched him, or at least just shut the door in his face, if he hadn’t felt Derek come up behind him at the time “have done so. Which is, goes without saying, intolerable.”

“It was a slip. We’re not looking to freeload. We’ll pay.” Derek says, holding the door open, his hand right above where Stiles’ is.

When Stiles glances a change at him he’s frowning at Harris, shirtless as well. Stiles pushes his lips together as not to laugh. Derek’s mouth twitches as well and Stiles almost loses it. He knows what he’s doing, the bastard. Harris was always reluctant to let Derek stay with them, excusing it with the fact three people would be too much for that apartment’s size but Stiles knows damn well it’s because he’s more than a little afraid of Derek.

Harris harrumphs and shoves a few papers at Stiles’ chest.

“You if do not complete your full payment by the deadline stated on the papers, I will be forced to see you walk out the door forever, Mr. Stilinski.” Stiles swears there’s a little smirk growing on his face before he sobers up, which is poor choice of words because Harris is hardly ever sober. Kind of why they’ve managed to pay him the full lease late without much fuss, but it doesn’t look like it will happen again “I will not hesitate to bring the authorities into this.”

Harris leaves with a last almost-smile and Stiles tries to slam the door but Derek stops him, shutting it properly.

“’an you ‘eliebe that sherk?”

Derek huffs out a soft laugh and pushes Stiles towards the bathroom.

“Go finish up, then we’ll talk.”

Stiles takes about two seconds before coming back.

“Can you believe that jerk? We’re late two days, Derek, and he knows, he knows–!”

He stops himself when he sees how tense Derek’s shoulders are. He’s holding the papers Harris gave them, which Stiles had absentmindedly handed to him, and he sighs.

“He’s still giving us time, that’s something.”

Derek sits down on the couch, leaning forward as to read the paper, legs spread.

“We can’t tell Scott.” He says first thing’s first, jaw clenched. “He will want to stay.”

Stiles snorts.

“How do you even know he’s not staying in the first place?”

Derek raises an eyebrow up at him.

“Okay, point taken.”

Even at that time it was already a given that Scott would be leaving them soon. It’s not like he actively had said it before but the signs were there, Derek and Stiles noticed things. And it was selfish to anchor Scott to a house, to them, just because of their own financial problems. Scott deserved to be happy after all he did for them, he deserved to move in with his girlfriends if he so desired and Stiles was done being selfish.

He crosses his arm, tapping his lower lip with his index finger, preferring to stay standing for now, close to Derek, because he knows if he sits down beside him he’ll break.

“We can make this work.”

Derek’s silent for a long time before he answers with a solution of his own.

“I’ve been looking into our numbers, I– I think I’ll have to drop Cora.” Derek shakes his head slightly, face pinched as if just the thought of doing that causes him physical pain. Stiles think it probably does “She’s doing well in South America. Maybe she can find another scholarship, one that pays more, one that will help her more than I can.”

Stiles sits down on the spot next to Derek and looks him in the eye. He knows how hard Cora fought to even get the scholarship he currently has. Derek looks up at him and Stiles finds his resolution in his eyes.

“No. She needs you, Derek. I will find a way, don’t worry.”

It’s not reassurance as much as it is a promise, because as Lydia says often, Stiles finds a way. He always does.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

After Scott’s announcement, Stiles thought the world would stop. That the Earth would stop spinning or something, arresting time in itself, but no matter how awful Stiles feels, five days later he’s still sitting at his table at his college’s milkshake bar, still enjoying his Oreo milkshake while in front of him his friend Caitlin is enjoying her own banana milkshake.

Not much has changed expect for Stiles’ feeling of impending doom.

“So, I guess that’s a no on cinema tonight, huh?” Caitlin asks, her shoulders bobbing in a way Stiles will never not find cute.

He cringes in apology as he furiously chews on his straw, currently wrecking his brain for anything that would help his situation.

He already gave his resume to the student at the counter, but one skeptical look from Danielle was all the answer he needed. Stiles might have a reputation for, oh, he doesn’t know, property misappropriation? Property destruction? Golf-carting through campus in his Speedo? Being actually arrested that one time? (He thought that one would actually help him get some, but alas, as far as he’s come to understand, all college movies he has ever seen in his life have effectively lied to him in every way imaginable).

So, all those fun character-building activities he did at the time sounded ingenious, _at the time_. But now they’re kind of getting in the way of him getting a job which is sort of very bad.

“Sorry, that’s a no on any social life boosting activity for a while.”

Caitlin’s lower lip stretches out in a pout but she immediately straightens up and smiles at him.

“I understand. It’s not like you’re losing much anyways. Ethan and Aiden were dead set on watching the new Twilight saga movie.”

“Oh, yeah, good luck with that. They’ve been obsessed with vampire stuff ever since seeing _Interview with the Vampire_. Never mind that I told them they won’t find another movie to out-stage that one even if they look their entire lives.”

Caitlin waves him off as she takes another sip of her drink.

“It’s not all bad. I heard the werewolf spends even more time shirtless on this one.” Stiles points his index finger at her in encouragement or agreement, either way shirtless Taylor Lautner is something Stiles can absolutely get behind “Plus, I get to watch Kristen Stewart’s face for two hours which is definitely not enough.”

Stiles nods “Preach it.”

He’s furiously sucking on his straw when she smirks at him, which is probably a good indication that he should stop sucking on his straw because what comes next will probably have him swallowing said straw but Stiles has never had much well-toned self-preservation instincts, or any for that matter. Plus, this is one great milkshake, he couldn’t stop if he wished it to. _Oreo, man_.

“Still would pay more to see the vampire guy fuck the werewolf guy into no man’s land.” She says in such a sweet tone that he thinks he might have misheard her but he knows he hasn’t.

That’s just classic Caitlin, dropping word bombs at unexpected times. Like when she made Stiles realize he was bisexual as fuck.

He does almost chokes on his straw “Oh my god, Caitlin, you’re a mena–“ He’s swiping the tears from his face while coughing when it comes to him.

Ah, comes.

“Oh my god, Caitlin. You’re a genius!”

* * * * * * * * * *

 

“Supernatural porn!”

The door bashes against the wall as Stiles makes his grand entrance into the McHaleInski household (soon to be HaleInski household. Stiles wonders if there’s a better name for just the two of them now, huh, he’ll have to think of that and renew the sign).

Jackson and Scott pause on their way out of Scott’s room, carrying several boxes between them. Scott smiles at Stiles before turning a questioning look at Jackson.

Jackson shrugs. “I’ve been described as worse.”

Stiles huffs out a breath, flails his way into closing the door behind him and tells them to drop everything they’re doing. It’s a surprise Jackson immediately does so, but Stiles suspects he’s just happy to have earned an excuse to do it even if Scott gives him a flat look.

“Listen,” He begins and he talks them through his epiphany, through all the research he’s done, to sitting down with a friend of theirs who owns a legit business (he doesn’t say Heather but they know it’s Heather, everyone knows Heather’s epic story of ascension from lowly college student who wasn’t ever really into all that studying to empress of her own empire) who could help them get it out there fast enough so Stiles could collect the money and not be scammed. It’s perfect and it gets more perfect the longer he talks.

When he finishes, Scott’s mouth is hanging open and Jackson, well, Jackson is looking at him like he’s the biggest idiot on the planet but that’s not anything new.

“You want to film bestiality?” Scott asks, his smirk widening to proportions that only make his uneven jaw more pronounced.

“Yea– No! Oh my god, what’s wrong with you?”

Jackson snorts from his place beside Scott on the wobbly kitchen table.

“Where to start.” He throws out to the air and grabs Scott’s hand when he tries to swat him across the head and actually swats him back, only successfully “That doesn’t mean what you think it means, McCall.”

Then Jackson turns his attention to Stiles, something Stiles is still having trouble not countering with a heavy glare or a surreptitious raised finger, even after they’ve been friends for so long after Jackson finally allowed his tough exterior to melt down all those years ago. It happened when Stiles offered (albeit a bit unwillingly and with a humongous push from good old Scotty) his many services to help Jackson find his biological parents and there was nothing Stiles couldn’t find if he put his mind to it. It was weird, to say the least, to have Jackson be so grateful to them, for their help, for their _friendship_ most of all, but strangely at the end of it all Stiles couldn’t deny it was worth it. A lot of tears, stress, sleepless nights and days and complications but for the loose ends finally tied, it was worth it.

Plus, at least he finally got to see Jackson cry, something he’s wanted since he was eleven years old and Jackson stepped on his favorite Barbie, brutishly ripping it’s head off.

So, Stiles might be the never forgive never forget type, but hey, he’s trying to get past it.

“Why?” Jackson shakes his head slightly as he asks and Stiles mouth drops open on a series of stuttered words.

He doesn’t want to lie, not specifically, but he can’t tell the truth either, not in front of Scott, which he really should have thought of before coming running _to_ Scott (it’s a tough habit to kick), so he opts for what he always does. Half-truths. Half-truths save everything.

“Hm, Derek wants this new game and since you’re moving out” He points to Scott as if it’s obvious “we thought we’d buy a Playstation for ourselves, and there’s this one pack on discount, but it’s expiring soon, so…”

He sees Scott’s slow, small smile that means he’s indulging Stiles by not interrupting him but doesn’t entirely accept his reasoning, but he barrels on. Let no one in this world say Stiles Stilinski has ever backed down from constructing a web of lies so thick he will probably end up choking himself in it.

“Do you have any idea how much these things pay if you know how to work around it? And everyone’s gonna want to see it, even if it’s just to say they go to school with pornstars!”

Jackson stares at him before pointing two fingers at his face.

“Doesn’t Derek work two part-time jobs?”

Scott raises his eyebrows at Stiles.

Oh my god, Stiles wrecks his brain for something quickly, he should have known Jackson would know this about Derek, never mind that Jackson doesn’t usually know anything about anyone except Danny, but Jackson was the one who introduced Derek to the group after all. They take care of each other, which, weird combination there. Then again, Stiles’ friends all fit that definition.

“Birthday gift. Derek can’t know.” He says simply because he already decided he’s not involving Derek in this.

“That’s really nice, Stiles!” Scott pipes up, smiling at Stiles like him being nice is something worthy of celebration.

Okay, maybe it is.

Jackson’s eyes narrow to slits as he looks at Stiles “You’re lying. I am a lawyer, you know. I can tell.”

 _You are an intern, jerk_ , Stiles wants to say and he immediately leans towards denial but then his traitorous eyes glance towards Scott and he sees his expression, face a little closed off and eyebrows down, saying without saying that he would take the weight of the world if Stiles would let him.

Stiles sags against the table and sighs.

“We need the money for the lease.”

He feels a hand on his forearm slowly massaging it before Scott says “I know.”

Stiles almost falls out of his chair straightening up “You know?” He barely screams but it feels like he does “How do you know?”

Scott’s face is still set in determination.

“You guys were acting weird, well, more than usual. I saw our books,” Stiles snort because they do not have books but Scott always insists in calling them that, it makes him feel like a real adult in a way crunched cheetos in-between the couch cushions can’t, go figure “so I confronted Derek about it yesterday, and he told me.”

Stiles groans, of course he did. It’s been ages since Derek has been able to keep a secret from Scott for too long, never mind that it was all his idea to do so, the bastard.

“I’ll talk to Allison and Lydia, cancel the whole thing. Tell them–“

“The only thing you’re going to tell your girlfriends is every cheesy thing you’ve probably already told them.” Stiles rakes a hand through his hair “Seriously, dude, go have your happy ending or I will go insane for taking it from you. Besides, we both know it’s too late for you to go back now without a bunch of legal complications.”

Which isn’t exactly what Stiles and Derek had planned or anything.

Scott leans across the table to touch his elbow.

“I can’t be happy if you’re in trouble, dude.”

Jackson pretends he’s gagging at their side and Stiles glares at him.

“Dude, rude? We were having a moment here.”

“Yeah, it’s revolting.” He says, then he raises his eyebrow as he looks between them “Have it on camera.”

Stiles and Scott turn their heads towards him at the same time, then look at each other, then again at Jackson.

Jackson gets up with a grunt and steals a Gatorade bottle and a tiny box of onion rings from the fridge.

“It’s simple. You screw each other on camera, get paid. You get to keep your shitty apartment” He points to Stiles, then to Scott “and you get to keep your two girlfriends and your new shitty apartment.”

Scott and Stiles look at each other as he pops one of the rings into his mouth.

“Your theme is shit but that will not matter much if I’m there, it’s true.” He hums to himself, not noticing Stiles and Scott’s unison snort “I am pretty much porn material. Pretty and hot. The camera loves me. Everyone’s type. The whole package.”

He raises his eyebrow as if he just deemed his degree in Law and Business as a secondary career path. Then he shrugs, oblivious to Stiles and Scott’s silent communication. They’ve been at this long enough to understand each other with stares and eyebrows and twitches.

Stiles smiles, steals an onion ring from the box Jackson’s holding “Will you, Scott McCall, have sex with me, on camera, for money?”

Scott snorts as he grabs another cardboard box from the ground, smashing the onion ring on his middle finger. The box he’s holding has got the steering wheel Stiles took from Finstock’s car (and replaced for a stuffed toy of a cougar’s head) as a souvenir from their high school days. Scott smiles down at it before beaming at Stiles.

“I will sex you up so hard, dude.”

Stiles fist pumps.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

He talks it through with Heather the next few days. She tells him she can get his movie out under her label, which has a certain name to it so it’ll sell. She guarantees him so, even offers to provide him with a few volunteers but Stiles wants to keep this between him and his own.

She does tell him, however, that he needs to come up with something so ridiculous it’s actually great, as is usual in all her videos. When Stiles brings up the werewolf (amongst other weres) sex she’s sold.

It’s weird. Not that it’s weird that he’s going to be having sex on camera with his best friend, the most important person of his life, and not that it’s weird that several of his other best friends have actively pursued Stiles to let him know they want to help him as well.

And, in Erica and Lydia’s case, to chance him across campus and threaten to skin his balls for not telling them he needed their help. They said so at the same time. Stiles has no idea how he survived in their presence for so many years. Okay, so maybe he does. He basically just cowers and acquiesces to their every demands. It’s safer, but also part of the reason he doesn’t even fight that hard is that they are more than never usually true. Like all Braeden had to do was catch him one afternoon at his favorite burger joint with Liam and raise an eyebrow and Stiles immediately told her everything, her place in it included.

Overall, what makes this the weirdest thing is that it’s not weird at all. Sure, Stiles always knew how open they all were about their sexuality (some a little too open, and he’s not thinking of Malia as he considers this, or anything) and sex to them is a means of expression. It’s fun, even without the romantic aspect to it, it’s a way of being themselves, freely, no borders.

Stiles loves sex because of this. It’s not all about how good it feels to get your cock sucked, it’s more. It’s natural and he enjoys it more than anything. His friends agree, so really, this just feels like a natural solution to everyone’s problems.

“I can never get a date anyways,” Braeden is saying as she helps him glue the posters around campus “and I haven’t gotten laid in ages. I’m drying. I need to relax a little before college kills me.”

“You mean you’re dying?” Isaac asks.

Someone passes him by riding a bicycle and he quickly tapes a post to their back.

Braeden turns to him, stapler in her hand stopped midway to attaching another poster to a wooden lamppost “No, I really don’t.”

Stiles’ body shakes with laughter and even Isaac can’t contain himself.

Stiles has the best friends.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Derek has the worst friends.

He’s spent years opening himself up to them, letting them into his heart and mind and yet, _and yet_ , they don’t tell _him_ things. Important things, like, apparently Stiles is looking for a cameraman.

He looks down at the poster in his hand, already feeling the heavy frown come to his expression.

 

 

**LYDIA MARTIN PARTY AT THE LAKE HOUSE THIS WEEKEND**

now that I have your attention, seriously in need of a cameraman for a seriously important project (there’s probably a lydia martin party happening anyways WHICH you could get access to without even bringing drinks if you read this till the end).

has to: have a little experience (with the camera); not be a total jerk (read as: Jackson Whittemore); be open minded; know his angles and shit; don’t be creepy; love the project, not the people.

payment is negotiable.

if interested please answer as soon as possible, it’s very very very urgent!!

 

 

Derek didn’t even need to read the number hastily scrawled below to know Stiles was behind this. He recognizes his chicken scrawl on the number (it’s so like Stiles to forget the most crucial part and adding it later in a rush, Derek sighs) which he knows by heart it’s his roommate’s.

He has no idea what Stiles is planning, but he’s sure he has made the information on the poster as vague as possible for a reason and it can only mean trouble. Derek doesn’t remember a time where Stiles and trouble weren’t synonyms.

It can’t be a coincidence; this has to have to do with their current predicament.

Derek crumples the paper in his hand in frustration, huffing as he rolls his eyes. They had agreed to work this out together. When he gets home the first thing he’s going to do is stop Stiles and confront him about this.

For now, he has a part-time job to get to.

 

The microwave dings as he closes the door behind him and he can see Stiles taking out a couple of frozen dinners from inside. It appears today they’re having lasagna, one of Derek’s favorites. Even though he’s exhausted, he smiles down at the floor.

“Finally, dude. I’m starving!” Stiles claps him on the back as he sits down. He’s set the table for the both of them, as he usually does when Derek works late. Derek tries not to be too obvious about the fact he notices there used to be three plates and a little more jovial spirit.

He glances at Scott’s open bedroom door and counts one brown box.

“Anything interesting happen today?” Stiles asks and Derek looks up in time to see him turn his eyes away from that same spot.

He figures this is as good a time as any.

“Yeah, actually. I found this poster on campus.” He spots and pointedly looks at Stiles, raises an eyebrow.

Stiles doesn’t seem at all fazed that he was caught, just shoves an obscene forkful of food into his mouth.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.” He shrugs as he goes back for another bite, almost as soon as he finishes the earlier one.

“Are you trying to start a Jackass thing with Scott?” He raises his other eyebrow “Again?”

Stiles groans around the pasta. “Dude, you can’t just call Jackass a thing like that, oh my god. It’s a brilliant– You know what, we’ve been through this, Derek. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you holding back your laughter when Scott and I put it up on the TV.”

He waggles his finger at Derek. Then changes the conversations direction completely, something he does so often Derek’s starting to get used to it.

“What made you later than usual today? You’re not– Are you taking extra shifts? Because we agreed–“

“I’m not. I told you I wouldn’t and I didn’t.”

He did promise Stiles he wouldn’t take any more extra shifts, with great reluctance. Derek could do it, he was sure of it, but Stiles had looked so guilty, so set on finding a solution himself, anything to avoid that, because it was not Derek’s fault Stiles couldn’t land a job and he didn’t deserve to crash down with stress because Stiles was a professional failure. Derek had bristled at Stiles’ words and they’d agreed on the definition ‘past delinquent’.

They’d also agreed Derek wouldn’t do more shifts, because he hated seeing the guilt in Stiles’ face.

“I went to check up on Peter.”

“Did you finally catch him with his hands on a corpse?”

Derek huffs and tries to level Stiles with a warning look, which is obviously ruined by his slight smirk.

“Right, no jokes about your uncle’s serial killer vibe.” Stiles says around a mouthful then gestures for him to go on, spattering bits of meat on the table.

Derek grabs a napkin. He remembers the sight of Peter’s loft and can’t even blame Stiles for his mocking.

“Be glad you haven’t seen his vampire cave yet. He told me he hasn’t had time to ‘freshen up the décor’ but I know he’s lying, he just hasn’t been spending much time at his loft recently.” Derek shrugs “It looks like somewhere a pack of werewolves would live.”

Stiles suddenly chokes on his food and Derek stands to attention, ready to clap him in the back. He readily starts to rewind all his CPR lessons, he’s sure he still remembers the Heimlich maneuver.

He doesn’t get to use it because Stiles is lifting a finger and letting him know he’s good. When he stops coughing he finally says:

“Derek, do you think you could officially introduce me to your uncle?”

Derek’s heart pinches itself a little at his wording. _Officially_ , as if they’re…He brushes it off with a gulp of pineapple juice.

“Stiles, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this but a sugar daddy won’t solve all your problems.”

Stiles snorts Sprite through his nostrils and Derek pretends to be grossed out about instead of finding Stiles’ laughter at his expense hopelessly charming (and why can he hear Peter sighing _oh dear nephew_?).

He hands Stiles a handful of napkins and goes back to eating.

“Why do you want to meet Peter?”

“I just realized he might have the perfect place for the project.” Derek is frowning before he realizes it, Stiles reaching out to poke him in the middle where his eyebrows meet “No frowning. And no more questions. I’ll tell you if everything works out. False hope is worth none.”

False hope is better than nothing, Derek’s traitorous heart whispers. He eats another bite and stops asking questions.

“We’ll take the bus first thing in the morning.”

Stiles pats him twice on the bicep, then gets distracted for a moment. Derek clears his throat.

“About the lease’s deadline–“ He starts before getting cut off.

“Don’t worry, dude, just keep doing your thing. I got it all in motion.”

He winks at him and Derek forgets to push for further information.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Truth to Derek’s word, uncle Peter isn’t at the apartment the duration of the entire day after their dinner. It’s a Saturday so Stiles wonders briefly at this because he knows for a fact Peter’s got today off from the gun shop he works at.

Peter shoots Derek a text promising to meet him Monday though, so Stiles doesn’t think he’s actively avoiding them.

This means he’s currently sprawled out on the couch, ravishing his way down a bag of fries after having stopped to drop off his probably hundredth resume (Ms. Morrell had simply looked at him devoid any kind of expression and asked how well his dad’s lawn mower was working and yeah, passive-aggressive point taken, lady) and probably thousandth time of cursing how fun he used to be.

He’s halfway through the bag when Malia, Lydia, Jackson and Isaac noisily make their way through the door, Lydia taking the lead.

She immediately plucks the bag from his hand.

“Hey, I was binge eating that.” He half-heartedly complains.

He shivers when she smirks at him. Even by merely popping a few chips into her mouth the woman terrifies him.

“Is that any way to talk to the person who brought your project to concrete life?”

Stiles looks up questioningly, Isaac and Jackson have take over the bean bags as Malia draws nearer him, takes a clump of papers from her bag and starts waving them at him, wide smile plastered on her face.

“And I helped!” She then proceeds to nearly smother him with what appears to be some type of written report.

Stiles reads the title _Supornatural_ , the porn in the middle obviously embezzled with a darker shade or red than the remainder letters, and laughs so hard he almost hits Malia in the eye with a stray finger.

“The title’s revisable, of course. It was Boyd’s suggestion.”

“Is this a script? So fast?” Stiles wheezes out through shorts spasm of laughter.

His subconscious sends a prayer to whomever for the fact Derek’s an assiduous jogger thus keeping far from the oncoming conversation.

Lydia smirks at him, handing the bag to Malia who immediately slashes through it to get to the bottom and sits cross-legged on the floor enjoying it.

“Allison is a great muse. She designed your scene, by the way.”

“Allison wrote the sex between me and your boyfriend?” At Lydia’s nod Stiles shoulders sag “I love you girls.”

Lydia throws her hair back and settles more deeply on the couch. “Of course you do, but we’re not done yet.” She waves a hand towards Isaac.

“Thanks for the inclusion in that group.” Isaac says fast “Anyways, I know you’re trying to set things up with Derek’s uncle as far as sceneries are concerned, but I thought it couldn’t do bad to have variety, you know? There’s only so much magic Danny can do with his CGI skills–”

“That was me. I got Danny.” Jackson says as he steals the remote from Stiles’ hand and smirks at him as if he’s the one who got the most of them all which, well. It’s Danny. He sort of did.

“Let him finish, Jackson. It’s rude to interrupt.” Malia says from her place on the floor.

Jackson huffs but stays otherwise quiet so Isaac continues.

“And I thought of a place that’s perfect for the girls’ threesome.”

“The girls’–“ Stiles doubles back but Lydia thumps him on the head with a muttered _read the script_ , and doesn’t let Isaac be interrupted again.

“It’s an old warehouse where I used to ah – Chill.” Stiles snorts, already imagining what exactly Isaac was using to chill. Those were the days, when he, Scott and Isaac and pretty much everyone chilled together.

Memories of him and Derek shotgunning suddenly come to his mind and he has to blink a couple times to distance himself from them. Another time. He can lose himself in those memories another time, but for now, Isaac’s saying something.

“This is the only way I found to be involved, I don’t– I’m not comfortable with the public eye.” He cringes. Malia nudges him with her foot and Lydia rubs his back. “Boyd says the same. Oh, he offered to grab some fake blood and others props from work as compensation.”

“No, I–Thank you.” Stiles says, which feels foreign coming out of his mouth but they deserve to hear it and he deserves to say it.

These people, his friends, they’re doing this for Stiles and for Derek and Stiles wants to tell them this means everything, their willingness, their complete lack of restraint when it comes to support him, even if it’s in this unimaginable way, but he doesn’t know how to voice all that, not after years of being purposely closed off for fear of being alone again so he just repeats it, with as much vehemence as he can muster. “Thank you.”

And when even Jackson smiles softly at him, he thinks he got the point across.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Monday, after classes, after Stiles has once again ended a phone call from his dad while trying to pretend he’s got everything under control and not actually lying at the same time, (his dad doesn’t need more debts, not after they’d already had been through a rough patch during Stiles’ high school years thanks to his mother’s medical bills) has Stiles and Derek catching the bus to Peter’s loft.

Derek is right, the place is shifty in a way ghosts would love to haunt, no matter that there’s a wall completely made of windows which faces the kitchen. Stiles doesn’t want to think what that says about Peter’s tastes.

It takes a while to convince Peter about using his loft, even more so when Stiles has to adapt his speech in a way that keeps Derek in the dark about what they are actually doing while still trying to convene how Peter’s space is of the most importance.

Eventually luck strikes when Derek excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Stiles rushes through the real explanation. Peter laughs so hard Stiles could swear he gets prominent laugh lines.

“This is how my nephew finds his guts? Poor Derek.”

Stiles narrows his eyes and wonders if lying about Derek being there would earn points in his favor, since Peter might prefer his nephew to be around when he’s not. He’s still calculating his chances when Peter tilts his head at him and smiles, like a dog smelling his treat. Stiles knows he’s slipped.

“He doesn’t know.”

Stiles sighs.

“No, and I’d like to keep it that way. Scott’s helping me out.” He says, because he knows how Peter finds Scott so infuriatingly responsible and incorruptible and it might help his case “We can do this without having to make Derek do something he doesn’t want to out of a sense of duty.”

Peter crosses his legs his hand grabbing his foot.

“Oh, this is going to be fun. It’s too bad I won’t be here to see this.” He waves Stiles off just as Derek’s getting out of the bathroom “You can have the place. I hardly use it much either way.”

“Which leads to the question, where do you disappear to so often these days?”

Peter pauses to take a dramatic sip of his tea. Stiles thinks by now he has these things rehearsed.

“That, my dear nephew, is none of your business.”

* * * * * * * * * *

 

The next day, Stiles finds himself sitting on a bench revising materials with Erica and Kira, the first with her head lying down on the latter’s stomach, on a sunny spot of grass on their favorite park a while off campus. Liam, Mason and Boyd are further back, throwing a lacrosse ball between them.

He thought there would be no way in hell the two girls would get along, considering their highlighted differences, but turns out the old saying is true, and opposites do attract because Kira and Erica have become as much friends as everyone else on the group, truly bonded over maybe the fact they’re both badass females who used to be kind of shy around others and now are just unstoppable. They complement each other really nicely, now that he thinks about it. They’ve both helped each other to grow out of their own shells, so it’s not that much a surprise when Kira chirpily informs him how excited she is to help him and Erica echoes the thought.

“So, I heard you found a place. Does that mean everything is set for us to begin?”

Stiles straightens up and tries to talk around the pen in his mouth but Erica swipes it from him and gives him an eye roll with a slight smile.

“Yeah, I actually got a call today.” He looks down at his phone “He’s actually supposed to meet me in a bit.”

Stiles chose this spot for a reason after all, it’s near the drive way so noticeable and there’s an iconic pink elephant strapped to a trashcan.

“I hope he’s good.” He rakes a hand over his face “I need to find someone with a decent camera that actually knows what they’re doing.”

Heather had warned him she had people that could add the finishing touches to their video, but she wouldn’t allow it to be filmed with a crappy quality. Even if the story was a tad ridiculous, what mattered was a HQ body. No use bringing it over if the jizz is all pixilated, she had said and they’d shared a laugh.

Matt had assured him he was experienced, but Stiles needed a bit more substance than a meager reassurance over a phone call right this moment.

Liam sits down on the bench next to Stiles with a sharp breath. Mason and Boyd collapse on the grass next to the girls.

“I wish you’d let me help.” He grumbles not for the first time and for also not the first time, Stiles works to his answer with a sarcastic remark.

“I’m trying to pay my lease, not be arrested for child pornography.”

Liam glares at him and Mason quickly steals the ball from his grip. Liam turns his glare towards his best friend and Mason laughs.

“I’m not even a minor anymore.”

Stiles waggles his marker at him without even returning the look.

“You should concentrate on your studies. This is the most important part of your life, the adaption between college and high school.”

“Yes, mom.”

"You wish I was your mom, buddy." Stiles snorts but he actually meant that advice.

Even more after Liam decided to round up a few of his fellow lacrosse players (Brett and, god forbid the name, Garrett) and Mason and take a gap year after he finished high school. A gap year that turned longer but hey, at least the kid had brought hilarious stories with him and scars as deep as Stiles’ after catching his best friend and Brett in certain…conditions.

Those kinds of similar experiences straighten the bond between brothers.

“Although maybe going to jail would solve all your problems.” Boyd jokes as Mason throws the ball to Stiles but Liam catches it before it can reach his palm and smirks at him.

Erica smacks Boyd on the back of the head with her boot and he playfully pushes her.

“Don’t beat him up.” He sighs as he closes his textbooks “At this point, getting stabbed in the shower is starting to look like a real option.”

"Didn't you make friends when you were arrested for–" Mason starts, his lips inching towards the beginning of a teasing smile.

"Oh my god, no. Forget that once and for all."

Liam taps Stiles on the shoulder before he runs off, purposely pushing Boyd to the ground, who immediately reaches out to grab his ankle and causes him to stumble away running from him even as he's laughing. Boyd laughs too and it makes Stiles stop for a second. He'll never not be able to, he remembers the first time Boyd laughed in front of all of them and it was a cinematic masterpiece of a moment for everyone involved, really.

Mason lies on his back for a while before shaking his head at them and taking off running after his best friend.

Kira laughs while Erica turns to Stiles.

“Don’t worry about the photographer, he’s good. And I have a feeling he’s a cutie too.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at her “How do you–“ A hand taps him on the shoulder and he looks up to see Danny beaming down at him.

“Hey, Stilinski. Looking forward to touch up on your project.” He winks and Stiles absolutely doesn’t melt a little.

Okay, so he does. Danny has that effect on everyone.

“Always a bearer of good news, Danny boy.” He pats whatever part of Danny’s body he can reach which right now is his calf.

Danny points somewhere next to him and only now does Stiles noticed he’s got company. “I am also the bearer of your new cameraman.”

The guy next to Danny is indeed kind of a cutie, even if he is evil-looking with his too clear eyes and slightly shifty stance. Stiles extends a hand for a fist bump and the guy smiles before bumping it.

“Hey, man, glad you could make it.”

Both Danny and the guy, whose name Stiles hasn’t asked yet, sit down next to them, the seven of them automatically rearranging themselves on the grass to form a circle.

“I’m Matt Daehler.” He raises his hand in a greeting to the group.

Danny bumps his knee with his own. “Matt’s in my Workflow and Image Edition class. He sucks at editing,” this time Matt bumps him back and Danny smirks “but damn can he understand a picture.”

Matt seems to gain a little more courage with this and takes up where Danny stopped. “I’m a photography and film major. I bought some of my stuff for you to look through.”

He then proceeds to whip out the most expensive-looking equipment Stiles has ever seen. He almost feels dirty taking it in his hands as Matt hands it to him. Stiles spends almost half an hour going through Matt’s short films.

“Wow, Matt, these are amazing!” Kira compliments him and Stiles could swear he sees Matt blushing. He can’t wait to tell the guy what they’re really doing if that’s his reaction. He almost feels bad. Almost.

“So, the poster said payment was negotiable,” Matt begins, looking Stiles in the eye.

Stiles gulps. He doesn’t quite know how to say that his ‘payment negotiable’ section was leaning more towards the pro bono zone. Or in this case, pro boner zone. Oh my god, Stiles is hilarious.

“Money is an issue, actually.” He scratches his chin and tries to think of a way to explain how much this is an understatement but Matt is, against all odds, surprisingly nonchalant about this.

“That’s fine. Danny told me all about your project,” He says, smirking a little and Stiles realizes Matt’s not only a cutie, with his sky-blue eyes and slight stubble, he’s actually handsome. If he had a shortage of better friends he’d definitely ask this guy to enter the film too “and I mean, I can do free. I know how tough it is, it took me four years to save for this beauty.”

Matt raises his camera and just like that leaves Stiles speechless. Figures, Danny’s personality must be rubbing off on this guy.

They discuss more important aspects of the entire thing, such as location and time and setting, and then Matt leaves for another class.

“Told you.” Erica says, sighing.

She bumps her shoulder against Kira’s.

Cameraman, check. So now it’s finally ready, set, go.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Diversity, Heather had demanded the second he proposed the movie to her. Diversity or no deal done, no matter how much she liked him and wanted to see him naked.

Stiles had laughed and promised her both things profusely, and _holy shit_ isn’t he living up to his word, he thinks as he takes in the scene unraveling before him.

Braeden is wearing tight leather pants and a tight leather shirt (tight! Leather! Malia insisted and no one could refuse such a good idea, because obviously mercenaries wear all leather, it’s science). She’s chasing a fake-frightened Erica and Kira through what they’ve staged to be a wasteland (but really is just a wide space of dry dirty right before it opens up to the beautiful woods ahead, but they cut those out of the film) in black combat boots and one of Boyd’s props, a real-looking shotgun made of plastic and sponge.

Matt is following her on a makeshift rolling platform they have fashioned out of scraps. The guy’s obviously used to this since his grip on the camera remains steady.

Braeden crouches down at the entrance to a big warehouse and feels the dirt beneath her fingers. Then she smirks and goes inside. The camera follows.

Inside the warehouse it’s a little darker but Danny helps Matt move a few lights around (courtesy of their cameraman and his film nucleus) and between that and the light coming in through the few cracks in the metal they manage to make it clear as day. Stiles has to hand it to Isaac, the place looks taken care of. There are a few scraps around a corner but overall they’ve made it clean and appealing.

Erica, Kira and Braeden stop to talk and exchange excited words before Matt gives them the okay to continue. Allison steps in to call action, the clapperboard she uses to do so smacking loudly.

Erica and Kira are now positioned on the ground, on top of a mattress Danny made sure they could use his and Matt’s combined skills to CGI out and avoid focusing on in the shooting. They disguised the mattress as a kind of nest Kira and Erica’s characters have been using as a bed so far. The warehouse is their lair and Braeden just found it.

Braeden stalks towards the pair from her place at the entrance, her walk steady and dangerous and outright sensual. As if she’s the supernatural creature in the scenario as opposed to the mercenary chasing a werewolf and a werefox for a bounty placed on their heads.

“It’s a shame ridding the world of such beautiful specimen.” Braeden says, then her lips purse together and she appraises the pair with a raised eyebrow.

Kira lowers a shoulder a bit, as the script dictates, which causes her shirt to ride lower and reveal a bit more of her cleavage. Braeden purposely eyes it.

“You could consider our offer and let the bounty go.”

“I have a thousand dollars riding on the both of you. If you want to go free, you’ll have to make it up to me.”

Erica looks at Kira and they’re silent for a while before Kira smiles sweetly and nods. Erica smirks up at Braeden before dropping her voice to a sultry but still audible to the cameras promise:

“We will.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Braeden queries, hand already poised above her utility belt, stripping it off at the same time she places her shotgun on the ground.

Kira raises her hand and starts caressing Erica’s hair. “You chased us halfway across the world. I think you know how.” Erica gives Braeden one last hiss and she and Kira are kissing. It’s slow and sweet, both girls holding their smiles back in an almost imperceptible way.

Braeden licks her lips before settling her knees on the mattress. Erica gives Kira’s lip one last lick before the both of them are crawling towards Braeden, taking off her shirt at the same time. Braeden grabs their hair and the three of them share an open mouthed kiss.

Braeden pushes Erica against the mattress and gets to eat her out, both of them positioning themselves on their sides. Kira touches herself for a while before Erica grins up at her from where she’s returning Braeden her favor and cocks a finger at her. As soon as Kira comes close enough to where they’re lying, Braeden licks a stripe up her leg before licking her way towards her vagina. Erica plays with Kira’s hair for a while as the girl approaches the blonde and kisses her breasts, eliciting a stream of moans and laughter.

The three take position and then their each giving each other the cunnilingus of their lives, which still doesn’t manage to cut off the moans and satisfied smirks and giggles they all let out.

Stiles doesn’t realize when it gets away from him, but when he regains himself Braeden’s used her shotgun on both girls and it also has been used on her by the two others. The shotgun is a fantastic double agent in the sense that it has a freaking dildo hidden in its goddamn barrel and Stiles has to hold onto Danny’s shoulder tight so he won’t fall down at the thought of Boyd or Isaac or anyone else having that idea (although it was most likely Erica, it just stinks of her).

Danny kicks him away with a grin on his face because he’s actually making too much noise so close to the camera. Stiles sees that he’s holding back his laughter too, the hypocrite.

Before he knows it the girls are coming at different paces and Matt calls cut.

When the three girls all fall back on the concealed mattress they’re laughing and seem sated and happy, at ease.

Stiles hates to ruin their afterglow but when they see him approach them with bottles of water in hand all he gets is pleasurable groans and thanks.

“That was so fun.” Kira grins at him.

“Can we go again?” Erica playfully bites Braeden on the chin which makes her laugh.

Stiles laughs too. “Maybe on your own time. You can get dressed any time you want, we’re wrapping up things here and taking everything back to Allison’s van.”

Erica gasps out a breath and falls back onto the mattress. “I’ll help in a minute. Don’t think I can move my legs just yet.”

Braeden and Kira laugh and lie down next to her. Stiles leaves them to yet and helps everyone clear out their set.

Malia catches up to him when he nearly drops one of the lights, earning him a pointed look from Danny, and helps him drag it to the van. She’s so visibly excited Stiles wonders how she isn’t bouncing with every step.

“Do you think we still have time to tape me and Jackson?” She smiles.

Stiles squints up at the sky, the sky still a bright shade of blue. He guesses it should be five in the afternoon now, and Malia and Jackson’s scene is supposed to be during the night anyways so they have enough time to get to Peter’s and wrap that part up, so as to bring the project one step closer to the finish line. Time is of essence and all that, after all.

Scott claps him on the back as they girls help take the mattress into the van last.

“And then it’s you and me. Ready to give them a show?” He waggles his eyebrows and Stiles pushes his face away, both laughing.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

After reading the scene Lydia had prepped for Jackson and Malia, Stiles had a hard time believing the guy himself had had any previous knowledge of the script.

Just goes to show how little you know, Stiles’ brain mocks him as he watches their scene. It goes as following: Malia and Jackson meet at a nightclub and the scene shows Jackson is a werewolf right at the beginning but keeps Malia nice and human, until she reveals she isn’t. Jackson takes her to his bedroom for what he thinks is a quick roll in the hay with a human girl but turns out to be so much more. Malia flashes her eyes at Jackson (that part to be edited later by Danny) and brings out her claws (carefully applied by an expert, aka Lydia) and finally reveals herself as a werecoyote.

Their scene is to be wild and plain down dirty. Jackson eats Malia out before she rides him into oblivion.

As usual, Peter isn’t anywhere to be seen, though the spare keys he lent Stiles were in their promised place at the flower pot near the door so really that’s all he needs. It took a while longer than he assumed to set everything up. Boyd even brought something to serve as a bar counter. Danny means to CGI the crowd too so there’s green all around except around the bed they’ve brought it. Scott’s idea, which he thanks him profusely for because now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t really want to use Peter’s bed.

The bed they’ve bought is facing the huge windows, because Danny had the brilliant idea of catching a shot of Malia riding Jackson, only their silhouettes as they come as the sun sets and everything turns out. Well, they can’t be sure if the sun will act accordingly, but they’re using the lights and the curtains for a better that effect.

Once again, Allison steps in to call action. She’s really taken a shine to that clapperboard and Stiles shakes his head at her.

They turn on the speakers, the bass pumping hard enough for Stiles to hope the neighbors don’t come knocking. Malia is dancing alone at the corner when Jackson comes into the picture. His eyes flash as he spots her, and he lets his claws out when he reaches out to her. They dance for a while, bodies in synch, the perfect picture of lust before Jackson whispers for them to get out of there in her ear and nods his head towards the exit.

Stiles knows the scene cuts here, then resumes to them in bed.

Danny and Matt go around the room, making the lights a little dimmer but not so dark that they can’t see every detail of their bodies. Jackson is laughing at something Lydia said as he undresses. Malia is already naked, having hastily fully stripped herself and Stiles snorts out a laugh and gives her a thumbs up which makes her grin.

Action is called again when Jackson and Malia are already on the bed. Jackson starts eating her out and Malia is not shy about pulling on his hair while simultaneously raking her nails down her own body.

Jackson groans and crawls up to kiss her. They make out for a while, Jackson fingering her leisurely even though she has previously prepped herself until Jackson pulls back, his eyes flashing and asks “You’re ready?”

His face shows exaggerated surprise when she merely smirks up at him, instead of the obviously intended shock they were supposed to show.

Her eyes flash back and her claws come out.

“Are you?” She snaps back and then flips them over so as to ride him.

They go at it for so long Stiles gets closer to the curtains just to have something else to focus on. Because it’s hot, he’ll admit it, Jackson and Malia banter this ridiculous dialogue, so porny that it makes everyone in the room snort and laugh, but it’s still Jackson.

Stiles looks outside for a second and that’s when he sees him, getting out of the bus and glancing up the windows before making his way towards the apartment.

He flails, almost detaching the curtains but he knows he’s made no mistake. He’d know that figure anywhere, no matter that they’re floor is high enough to mistake the people on the sidewalk for big ants.

“Oh shit.” He says, getting Scott’s attention from across the room.

Malia and Jackson, gladly, are still too engrossed in their scene to notice him. He takes a moment to silently communicate with Scott.

_Dude, what’s wrong?_

_Don’t worry, just a tiny unforeseen event, I can handle this._

_You sure?_

_Scott, just watch the porn you came here to oversee._

Scott laughs.

Stiles runs furiously down an insane amount of flights of stairs before he crashes right onto a hard wall of muscle and pain.

Derek steadies him before he falls.

“Stiles, what– You shouldn’t run down stairs. Why are in such a hurry?” He frowns at the way Stiles came from.

“Hey, Derek. Don’t mind it just exercising, you know. But enough about me, dude, what are you doing here?”

He slaps Derek on the arm which gets him two raised eyebrows. Score! No wait, this isn’t about that right now.

“You weren’t at home so I thought you might be here. Came to see how your project was doing and I thought you might be hungry.” He raises a bag of KFC and Stiles almost blurts out something he definitely would regret later.

An unusual pang settles in his chest. Huh, that’s weird. His heart normally doesn’t do that, only if he's got heartburn or somet– Oh. Oh my god, that’s guilt. Pure undeniable guilt. Stiles is pretty sure he hasn’t felt this since he stepped on his neighbor’s cat when he was three.

Suddenly he realizes Derek is levering him with a weird look as he goes up the stairs.

“Thanks but we’re not hungry. We’re okay. Super fine. Project’s great! Thanks for stopping by!”

Derek lets him takes the bag off his hands but spends a while accessing him with a terrifying look. Stiles is sure he can see right through him.

“Stiles.” Derek says and when he crosses his arms Stiles knows he’s already lost “I’m going up.”

The entire walk up to Peter’s loft Stiles walks behind Derek because he doesn’t think he’s ready to face whatever expression Derek’s face will take on when he enters the room. Especially if it’s fear. Oh my god, please let it be everything but that.

Derek gets his hand on the metal door and Stiles’ heart is thumping so loudly he’s sure everyone inside can hear it.

When they step inside everyone looks their way because it looks like the scene they were shooting has ended. Malia and Jackson are now lying down on the bed, sweat sliding down their bodies, contents sighs and smiles in place.

Stiles changes his mind and walks to be next to Derek as to observe his face. What he sees is not what he expected. Derek is blushing but he doesn’t seem repulsed by it, in fact his eyebrows are up (Stiles wonders if they can touch his hair) but all he seems is taken by surprise.

“Surprise?” Stiles cringes when Derek turns to him, expression never changing. If anything his eyebrows are getting weirder.

”You broke his claw!” Kira points out from where she’s sat down on Peter’s favored table and smirks.

Jackson raises his hand to show how one of his claws has detached itself from place. “She almost broke more than that.”

They all laugh at him and Malia slaps his ass.

Stiles allows himself a moment to laugh before he feels Derek’s heated gaze on the back of his neck. He turns.

“We need to talk.”

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

They’re at the top floor of the loft and Stiles is sitting on Peter’s bed (he desperately wants to not be there but doesn’t dare move) while Derek’s standing up.

The others had greeted Derek cheerily and started packing up to give them some privacy, or the illusion of it at least, expect for Scott who patted Derek on the shoulder and without words asked Stiles if he needed backup. Stiles refused because he owes Derek this. He can do this.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Stiles forces himself to look Derek in the eye.

“You would have wanted in.”

“And that would be so bad?”

Stiles snorts and starts to sputter the million ways the mere thought of _Derek filming porn_ is definitely not bad before he sees Derek’s raised eyebrows and realizes that wasn’t really the point of the question. Derek’s just trying to get Stiles to tell him the real reason which, Stiles appreciates, but it’s hard.

He sighs.

“You would have wanted in because that’s how you are. Hell, Derek, you would have filmed twenty of these no matter how uncomfortable you are with them if it meant sparing for everyone else. I just– I couldn’t ask you to.” His voice lowers to a whisper “Not after knowing what she did.”

In Stiles’ perspective, Derek’s suffered enough at the hands of sex.

When he looks at him from staring at his intertwined fingers Derek’s gaze on him has softened and his shoulders have lost a little height. It takes so long for him to talk that it startles Stiles when he does.

“Have you asked me?” Stiles turns to him with a confused frown “Have you asked me at all if I would be uncomfortable with this?”

He shakes his head no and Derek nods his head to the side.

“You should ask me.”

“Well, are you?”

“These past few years, you have no idea how much you and Scott changed everything. So, yeah, Stiles, I’m comfortable with this and I want in. It’s our lease, it’s only right.” He shrugs his shoulders and a smirk appears on his lips “I could show you just how comfortable I am with this. What am I to be, a vampire?”

Stiles absolutely does not shiver at his tone. He waggles his finger at Derek.

“Vampires are lame and don’t exist in this universe. You’re definitely the gruff, sexy Alpha werewolf with a heart of gold.”

Derek huffs out a laugh at this.

“Hey, no laughing at the mastermind behind the thing that’s gonna save us from financial doom.”

“No laughing, huh? Hope that rule is excluded during filming because I thought sex was supposed to be fun.” Stiles gapes at him before he suddenly asks “Do you have a scene too?”

Stiles bites his lip, ready for Derek to laugh about his revelation.

“Yeah, I’m going to pair up with my boy Scotty.” He feels his lips lift up at the edges a bit when Derek’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I could do you.” Derek suddenly announces and Stiles almost falls out of the bed as he flails in his general direction.

“What?”

“That came out–“ Derek huffs a soft laugh as he looks to the floor. He nods a few times to himself before raising his head back up and looking Stiles dead in the eye, soft smile on his face, bunny teeth showing and everything and, as always, leaving Stiles dumfounded “I mean, I know I’m nothing compared to the trust you and Scott share. And you need that. Need to feel safe. That’s important. But if you’d rather…”

Derek gestures between himself and Stiles and raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side in a obvious ‘what do you say?’ but Stiles still forces himself to ask him twice, just in case he’s passed out on the stairs from lack of breath and this is all a dream.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I want to be the one having a scene with you.”

So he’s maybe not even passed out and this is real and Derek just volunteered to have hot supernatural sex with him on camera. Definitely not what he was expecting at all, but Stiles won’t look this gift horse in the mouth.

Stiles gulps.

“I trust you.” Derek’s eyes snap up to meet his and Stiles feels his resolution strengthen. He wants to do this. God, how he wants to do this, no matter how make belief it turns out to be, he realizes as his eyes wander Derek’s body “And yeah, okay. More than okay. We’re gonna be gold together, dude, I mean, look at us.”

Stiles winks with more courage than he really feels and Derek laughs. Then he cringes.

Derek cringes. “I’m never taking Malia and Jackson to a club again.”

Stiles laughs as Derek keeps this pained look on his face and it feels like they’re sealing a promise. They’ve made their decision and he knows neither of them is backing out.

He just hopes they survive it.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

After his talk with Derek there’s the obligatory changes to the script, which he leaves to Lydia and Allison as they so request (as in, Lydia threatens him with a pen while simultaneously smirking knowingly at him. Whatever. She knows nothing that one.).

When he breaks the news to Scott he gets a defeated look at first but then he perks up and pats him on the back.

“Dude, you’re going to bone Derek.”

He waggles his eyebrows and Stiles punches him in the arm.

It’s not as if Stiles has been subtle about his attraction, the guy has been living with them for so long it gets tiresome to hide every wandering gaze and possible wet dream archiving look, and Stiles isn’t even a discreet person to begin with. His dad flat out describes him as tactless. It’s just that Derek’s not Scott and that’s exactly the problem.

Not in the sense Stiles is reluctant to go through with it, oh no, he’s more than eager to do so, it’s just that with Scott it was safe because he knew there was no chance in heaven the sex could turn into anything other than the fun practical solution arranged between friends that is was supposed to be. But with Derek the chances start wavering and dancing in front of Stiles’ eyes no matter how much he denies them, how much he doesn’t want them to in case they ruin everything.

“Are you going to be okay?” Scott asks, suddenly serious in that way only he can be.

“Dude. Yeah.” Stiles replies and he thinks he means it.

But after several minor freak-out and repeated _oh my gods_ over the fact that he is in fact boning Derek, who is pretty much the epitome of sex in every variation of the human eye, he realizes it’s not something he wants to miss out on. He’ll deal with the aftermath when the time comes. For now, he’s ignoring it.

Lydia, Isaac and Boyd work the script around, changing the Scott and Stiles scene to a Scott, Allison and Lydia scene and adding Derek and Stiles’ one. She lets him and Derek read through her threesome scene (which Stiles doubles-over laughing about because _Scott is going to have an awkward boner for the rest of his life_ , _priceless_ ) but refuses to let Stiles read his own scene until the day before the actual shooting. He sees her, villain. He knows she’s doing this because she’s afraid he might cave into his insecurities and back out but Stiles has passed that stage long ago. He hopes.

They’re back at Peter’s loft to shoot the last two scenes, again, absent the loft’s owner.

Stiles looks around the place as he holds back his laughter. There’s a sturdy table in the middle and the set is masked as a more appealing-looking veterinarian clinic (Lydia is truly relentless in her ideas. Stiles almost feels sorry for his brother). Boyd has never once failed them on the props he’s willing to smuggle from his work and Stiles is eternally grateful for the time he approached him, quiet and socially tense, in contrast to Stiles who was loud and well, also socially tense.

Against all odds they hit it off, even though Derek and Boyd were the ones who ended up bonding more deeply. Stiles still tries to mock Boyd about how hurt that made him but truth is he’s happy he at least got Derek that. He needed someone who was with him 24/7 and whom he could still trust.

Matt fiddling with his camera and discussing the shots with Danny and everyone else is helping around to set the scenarios for this scene, which are probably going to be the more elaborate ones.

Allison bumps her shoulder against Stiles’.

“Looks good, huh?”

“Excited, are we?” He snarks back when he sees the mischievous smile on her face.

“Why, Stiles, I’m always thankful for new experiences.” She laughs “Seriously though, we’ve been wanting to do something like this forever, it’s nice that we can help you out along the way too.”

“Thank you.” Stiles says, feeling like that’s all his mouth can muster these days.

Allison’s dimples come into view as she rubs his arm.

“You could have asked me earlier, you know? I would have been able to find a spot at my father’s house, anything...”

Stiles snorts.

“Well, thanks, but you’re already helping enough by letting me and Derek take our freaking showers at your place.” He cringes at this because he never thought he’d be in a situation where he’d have to actually go to his friends’ houses just to take a bath because his landlord cut off his freaking water.

Stiles would take anything before he turned into an inconvenience but everyone had been so insistent in helping and well…Derek deserved water at the least.

“Still think you and Derek should have shared to save.” Isaac says as he passes them by with some props and werewolf-y make up. Stiles flips him the bird and turns back to Allison.

“Although if your dad wants to be in the movie…”

Allison hits him in the arm, but smiles because she knows Stiles just loves to tease her about her dad. Hey, it’s not his fault he once saw Mr. Argent barbequing shirtless. That shit does stuff to a dude.

Allison brings her hand to her chin as if remembering something.

“Actually, dad wouldn’t be there at all. He moved out. He said now I’m spreading wings and moving in with Scott and Lydia he would feel lonely in that big house so he was looking for a small apartment.”

Stiles thinks for a moment that he could have had Mr. Argent as a roommate and that would’ve solved all their problems. Then he shudders because he remembers finding a gun in the cookie jar once, when visiting Allison during summer. He doesn’t think he’s ready for that kind of disappointment daily. Plus, Mr. Argent is all and all a terrifying dude.

Allison’s looks gains a little more mischief and Stiles perks up.

“That’s what he said, but he kept saying how he didn’t need my help with the move, that I should be enjoying my own moving and not get caught up in his. So I got curious, you know? Then, on moving day I saw him get out of the house with a few boxes and get picked up by someone.”

Stiles matches Allison’s wide grin.

“Your dad has a secret lady. Or man. Always knew that man had game.”

Allison’s groan is intertwined with Matt’s gesture that the scene is a go.

Scott, Lydia and Allison get into places, the energy between them so intense that Stiles has to snort. They’re like kids at a candy store.

The scene is a simple one.

Scott heroically saves their dog and tells them the pet needs to stay on the clinic as a safety measure. They move down to the other scenario set up, a hallway with a vet’s counter, a few couches and the image focuses on the three of them and a flier on the table that spells ‘ _Is he a good boy?’_. Foreshadowing. Stiles loved the idea when Scott pinched it to him.

This one is also a tacky dialogue, as good porns usually are (Stiles has to own up to Isaac, the guy is unabashedly creative) because, he remembers, they’re striving for so ridiculous it’s actually really good.

“Then what kind of girls are you?” Scott asks from his place on the vet’s counter, lowering himself on it so there’s only a few inches apart between him and the girls.

He knows what comes next by heart, the three of them talk, the words heavy with sexual intent, then Scott takes Allison and Lydia to his study and they fuck on this big couch, then on his desk, then standing up. Somewhere along the line Scott gets to use a dog collar. He doesn’t remember the details all that well, but he thinks there’s even a leash involved.

He can’t help but let his mind wander to his scene with Derek. No matter what scenario, they’re going to have sex. Today. In less than two hours time.

Stiles feels his hands start sweating and moves to go up the stairs. Derek’s leaning against the railing when he sees him.

“Are you alright?” Derek asks, ever perceptive but as usual oblivious to the effect he has on Stiles.

Stiles gaps at him for a full minute before swallowing (his arousal, probably, or whatever that lump in his throat symbolizes) and finding his voice again.

“You, huh. You. Shaved.”

Derek huffs and slides his hands against his (even now noticeable) five o’clock shadow, massaging it and Stiles wishes for a second that hand was his. In a few minutes maybe it can be. Oh my god, he can touch the not-beard soon, he thinks idly as his toes start to wrestle with themselves, a nervous tick he hasn’t been able to shake since his teenage years.

“Yeah, yesterday. Jordan lent me his bathroom.” Derek coughs and swipes his hand on his sweatpants.

Christ, the way the dark gray fabric clings to his hips and legs and the obvious place Stiles is trying very hard not to be too obvious he’s ogling (well, maybe not that hard. Oh screw that, he’s going to take a peek. Oh fuck. That’s insane. Well, that’s just… That’s insane. He swallows again. Either way, he’s getting all up in that soon so it really makes no difference).

Stiles congratulates Derek on his practicality. You know, given the clothes are going to come right off. When they’re having sex. The two of them. Together. Alone. With all those cameras around to film certain hands on certain butts and certain dicks.

“–thought I should.” Derek is saying, and Stiles brings his focus again on his face (that with a beard is awesome and without a beard is just as awesome, but the novelty of a freshly shaven face he hasn’t seen in a while is what really hits him hard he guesses). “You know,” Derek stops clenching his fingers and Stiles absentmindedly thinks he sees the tips of claws being drawn back “didn’t want to give your thighs beard rash.”

Stiles laughs breathlessly while all he wants to do is scream how much he doesn’t mind the idea of beard rash anywhere, in his goddamn ass crack if it had come to it.

“Looks nice.” He tries to say, stupidly pointing at the sweatpants while pursing his lips together and trying to smile, but only manages to half-whisper.

He doesn’t mind, whatever cool-points he could’ve earned with Derek are long past their time.

Derek thanks him and repeats his earlier question, intent on getting an honest answer out of Stiles.

Stiles plasters on a smile and waves him off. “I’m fine, dude.” He points a finger over his shoulder “That isn’t anything I haven’t seen before, unfortunately. Many, many times.” He gives a fake shudder.

Derek laughs and cringes in sympathy.

Stiles pats him on the arm and quickly takes the stairs two at a time, hoping Derek hadn’t noticed his hand was shaking.

He hastily goes into the bathroom and looks in the mirror. His eyes open when he recognizes what’s happening to his body. A panic attack? He hasn’t had one of those in years! He tries to count his fingers out loud but his breath is erratic, he can’t get an accurate word out. He searches through the drawers just to have something to do, something to focus on.

It doesn’t work.

Then someone knocks on the door and Stiles doesn’t have any doubts about who it might be.

“Stiles, let me in.” Then he adds as if an afterthought “Please.”

He doesn’t how but he manages to do as Derek asks. Derek immediately sits him down on the toilet, shutting the door behind them. He kneels down and takes Stiles’ hands, massaging them.

Stiles couldn’t for the life of him know how much time has passed when his breathe finally settles.

“We don’t have to do it.” Derek whispers but his eyes are staring straight at Stiles’ like he does when he means something for real.

The next words out of Stiles’ mouth might surprise Derek but not as much as they surprise Stiles.

“I want to do it.” It’s the heat behind them that really hits him.

He wants to do it. He does. More than anything he wants to share this with Derek. Maybe that’s why his subconscious felt it was so dangerous. Stiles never had a problem ignoring his part was left of his subconscious anyways.

“I’m just nervous.”

Derek takes Stiles’ hand and places it on his heart “Me too. It won’t change anything. It won’t change us.” Then he smirks “Just wait until you read the script.”

“Am I in for a surprise?” He should have known he couldn’t trust Lydia. Oh, what’s he saying, she probably played out the perfect scenario for him.

Derek nods slowly. “Oh, yeah.”

Derek only lets go of his hand when Stiles gets up to open the door. He stops with his door on the knob when he hears voices. Derek raises an eyebrow at him, after all, the place is swarming with people, duh, but something makes Stiles stop.

He leans closer and realizes he’s listening in on Danny and Matt. Matt’s talking and his voice is softer than usual.

“I…was a bad person for a while. I wanted someone, anyone, to like me. To have my back, because I felt so vulnerable and lonely. I did some bad things to a girl. Really bad things. I– I stalked her. I made this picture of her and I in my mind and I spiraled out of control. I was in a really bad place at the time. It’s not an excuse! It’s just– Just the truth. I learned from that mistake, after I admitted it. I started seeing psychiatrist. After everything, I promised myself I would only use my passion, my skills with the camera for good. To help people, you know what I mean? No more…No more of that messed up bullshit I let myself fall into. I don’t want to be that again.”

Stiles turns to Derek, open mouthed. Derek’s staring at the door with raised eyebrows, but he’s leaning a little closer to it to. Stiles lips twitch up. Derek’s really just as curious as he is.

“So that’s why you’re doing this for Stiles for free.” Danny says.

“The fact I’m unnoticeable as hell kind of enhances my skills with the camera by a long shot. People tend to be more comfortable getting filmed if the guy on the other side of the viewfinder is barely even there.”

“I don’t think you’re unnoticeable. Not even close.” Stiles hears Danny whisper and oh. _Oh._

Oh my god, had his project helped Danny and Matt find love? He might take advantage of the toilet and puke. Derek nudges him with his elbow when he whispers so, but his smile makes it evident he wants to laugh.

Then he gets this soft smile on his face and Stiles’ lips go from forcibly close so he won’t laugh out loud and startle his cameraman’s moment to open. He nudges Derek with his elbow and mouths how much of a sap he is. Derek frowns at him so he winks.

There’s silence for long enough for Stiles to feel a little weird about listening in to two people who are probably going to want to a little privacy soon or something, but the habit of listening in behind hiding places is something apparently etched into Stiles’ brain.

Then Matt says “Can I…?” And there’s a rustling of fabric, of what Stiles imagines it’s two people getting closer to each other.

In more ways than one. Huh. Stiles certainly wasn’t seeing this.

It takes a while before Derek and Stiles deem it safe to leave the bathroom and go downstairs.

Danny and Matt are at a computer, reviewing some scenes and now Stiles notices they’re a little closer than usually. He raises his thumb at Derek and gets an eye-roll in return.

Erica sees them going down the stairs together and flashes them a knowing smirk.

Ah, she has no idea.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Derek’s sure this was the right decision. At least, the best decision he’s ever made in his life, even though that’s not saying much.

It’s Stiles’ words that bold his own resolve. _I want to do this_ , he replays over and over in his mind, only then realizing how much he too wants to do this. It just feels right.

Stiles’ concerns over his reservations were at best, unexpected. He couldn’t hold it against him though, he certainly had a point. For very long after Kate, after everything she did to him he couldn’t find it in himself to open up enough to pursue sex. Sex is natural to Derek, and he doesn’t exactly think he needs to have it with someone special, like the romcoms his sister so loves support, but he does believe there has to be a certain level of trust when you give yourself over to someone. A certain level of easiness. Derek hadn’t felt that way about someone for a long time, so he had avoided pursuing it at all.

That doesn’t mean he still doesn’t love sex. The feeling of letting go while still remaining in control is something Derek can’t describe. That’s exactly what Stiles makes him feel.

Lydia, Allison and Scott are in a couch at the back so Kira and Malia take over telling them about the script. Derek’s doesn’t mention he’s read it a thousand times by now. Stiles and Derek are a human and an Alpha werewolf, respectively, and Derek makes a point of not looking at Stiles when he winks at him and mentions he had totally called it.

The Alpha werewolf is meant to chase the human through the woods and then they fuck on the forest ground, the moon highlighting them.

It’s kind of romantic if the lines weren’t so obviously porn material. Derek snorts reading through them now because he won’t be able to later.

 _I’m going to make you feel so good_ , Stiles is supposed to say. _Fuck me, make me your mate_ , Derek answers.

Stiles looks over his shoulder and breaks out into laughter.

“Man, this is awesome.” He singsongs.

Derek huffs as agreement. It is sort of awesome.

Stiles points out the fake moon the others have set up and gives them the thumbs up. This is it, Derek thinks. This is it. And strangely, he doesn’t feel nervous in the slightest. There’s a thrumming under his skin, one he hasn’t had in a long time, but that has certainly nothing to do with nervousness.

They’d filmed the chasing scene on the woods near Scott’s new home, after dinner the previous day, so today they could go straight to the real deal. Danny’s meant to CGI the woods around them in edition.

Matt and Danny call places and Stiles and Derek move to the set. Stiles winks at him and Derek smiles back.

Jackson calls action.

Stiles turns and Derek crashes into Stiles, simulating the end of the chase. He’s already shirtless, wearing only dark jeans, and Braeden had sprayed him with water because he’s supposed to be sweating but he feels so much heat that he’s sure all of it is already evaporating. Stiles is faking pants from under him.

They ended up lying down on the fake tree stump the others have set up. It’s actually a bed disguised as a gigantic tree stump and it does the work.

“You caught me, so now what?” He taunts, khaki-clad ass surging up to rub against Derek’s crotch.

He groans, almost forgets what his line is. “Now I show you who you belong with.”

He turns Stiles around and kisses him. Immediately he’s met with a long groan, Stiles arching up to press his body against his more firmly. Derek feels Stiles’ hand pulling on his hair and grunts. Stiles’ other hand is sliding down his back to cup his ass in a tight grip, moving down, down, until it can go no further and Stiles stops to grip his thigh and bring it up a little. Derek makes a show of leaning his head back, even though Stiles’ hold on his hair doesn’t fold, and he licks Stiles’ lower lip in a open mouthed tease, showing teeth because he knows Danny’s supposed to CGI fangs on him. He forces himself to open his eyes, which are supposed to be flashing red. Stiles’ eyes are dark and filled with wordless _want_.

Derek’s cock throbs just looking at them.

Stiles opens his mouth for Derek’s tongue and he gladly gives it to him. He makes it his mission to know every corner of Stiles’ mouth before he moves to discover every corner of Stiles’ body. Derek moves down, pausing on his way to nip on his jawline, and then sucks and bites down his neck.

He’s supposed to suck Stiles off, the script says, and then… Derek’s breath stutters thinking about what goes next.

He gives Stiles’ nipples much needed attention, and Stiles holds on to his hair, his chest heaving up and down in rapid breathes.

“Derek,” He forgets himself, but that’s okay. Anything can be edited out later and the only reason Derek isn’t rolling Stiles’ name over his tongue repeatedly is because he’s otherwise busy. He’s not complaining “god, so good.”

Stiles’ groans are loud and Derek’s not entirely convinced it’s just for the camera. It makes him hotter than anything else had ever made him.

He moves lower still, opening the flaps of Stiles’ offending khakis slowly, licking a stripe up his navel, noticing with joy that Stiles has a happy trail. Derek’s seen it before on the beach, in the pool, but up close and personal it calls to him even more.

He pushes the flaps down and Stiles raises his ass so Derek can pull the pants down his thighs. He doesn’t take them off yet though.

He rakes his hands down slowly over Stiles underwear-clothed erection, the fake claws attached there a little distracting, because they feel weird and foreign and a little silly, and frustrating, because it makes it harder for Derek’s fingertips to touch Stiles directly. Oh well, he’ll just have to be extra careful.

He groans as he mouths at Stiles over the fabric of his underwear and above him Stiles’ swears incessantly. Derek suddenly feels like improvising and uses the claws to rip Stiles’ underwear off.

“Oh my god.” Stiles whines and his erection swells even more as he whispers. “I can’t believe you just. Oh my god. That was so hot, man.”

Derek looks up at him and grins, then without warning lowers himself so suck on the head of his cock.

One of Stiles’ hands tightens his hold on Derek’s hair while the other Stiles uses to pull on his own hair.

Derek gets a hand on the base of his dick while teasing as further as he can with his mouth. He remembers himself he’s not supposed to make Stiles come yet, _not yet, not until the end_ , but it’s hard to get a straight head because he wants to. God, he wants to make Stiles come on his face right now.

But he doesn’t. He takes Stiles off his mouth and dips lower to suck his balls one at a time into his mouth. Stiles keeps whimpering above him, shivering and almost trashing. Derek smiles. He takes the head of Stiles’ cock into his mouth one more time before Stiles gives him a hard pull on his hair, a warning. Derek pulls off and tries to focus hard on what his next line is. He knows he’s got one. He disguises it by kissing Stiles’ thighs softly, sucking his balls again because he can’t get enough.

“What now?” He finally mimics Stiles’ earlier words. His finger is massaging Stiles’ hole, and he pushes it in easily (thanks Erica for making the claws so fragile that they fall off easily), because Stiles is already prepped and Derek knows one finger is as far as they’re going, but by god he wishes he could take his time and push more of his fingers in.

That’s not what the scene is about though. Another time, perhaps. But his heart pinches with the thought that there won’t be another time and he tells it just focus on the now. On Stiles, who looks down at him for a moment and then realizations sweeps into his eyes.

He smirks madly and bites his lip.

“Now I show you who you belong with.”

Then he pulls Derek up for a filthy kiss before he turns them over. He makes quick work of Derek’s jeans and underwear. Derek’s supposed to help him but he can’t get the presence of mind to, he’s too caught up in the fact Stiles’ fingers are hovering over his cleft.

Derek turns his head so he can look over his shoulder to see Stiles’ face. His mouth is hanging open and his eyes lift up for a second to glance at Derek’s face before he leans down to bite one cheek. Derek tries to do as the script instructed and fake a growl but he thinks it comes out as more of a pained groan. Pained because if Stiles doesn’t get his dexterous fingers in him fast he’s going to…

Oh. Those are not. Right. Definitely not Stiles’ fingers.

Derek doesn’t even try to suppress the whine that comes out of him, at this point he’s too far gone. And they haven’t even fucked yet.

Stiles’ tongue inside him feels like everything he has been denied by the world for so long.

Derek had Kate, and only when it was over did he realize how selfish sex with her was. She used Derek as she wanted and they never experienced like he wanted. After Kate there was Jennifer but sex with her always felt wrong, like he was forcing himself, like his mind wasn’t his own. He decided he was trying too hard to heal and they stopped. Then came the occasional hook ups, which Derek does not miss in the slightest because even though some of them were fun they also left him wanting more.

Stiles’ rimming? It leaves him wanting nothing else. Derek’s been rimmed before and it’s one thing that cannot be compared to anything else as far as he’s concerned, but he’s never been rimmed like this. He could be rimmed for days, but with Stiles? Fuck, he could stay like this forever.

He’s already a mess of groans and whines and _more_ , _god_ , _fuck_ , Stiles works his tongue inside him and he feels himself opening up, welcomes it.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Stiles says when he pulls back.

He pats the bed for the lube and Derek helps him find it. His mind connects the action with their relationship, the way Stiles helped him find himself. Damn, Stiles is right. He is a sap.

He remembers Stiles discussing it with Lydia, telling her Heather said some people enjoyed actually seeing the lube, because what they craved more was the anticipation, the knowledge of what was to come given to them by visual aid. Danny’s cutting most of the lubing up though, as he’s cutting the moment Stiles puts his condom on (and jesus, Derek thinks as he watches it, what a great moment. He’s suspicious he won’t be able to cut it from his memory as easily even if he wanted to).

Stiles coats his fingers and pushes in. He takes his time, just like Derek would because he doesn’t know how long it has been since Derek has done this. If he has ever done this. They don’t talk leisurely about this, about everything else, sure, but not this. And now they’re actually really doing this and Stiles is. Oh my god, Stiles is close to bursting. The cameras are lingering around his subconscious but he has to concentrate twice as hard to not forget about them because all he can feel is Derek. His fingers, inside Derek. His mouth and fingers inside Derek. Derek’s groans and whines and demanded whispers of more. He’s not sure how much of it is just for show but he suddenly desperately wants none of it to be.

He fingers Derek for god knows how long before, from the corner of his eye, Braeden gives him a signal.

He doesn’t dare take his eyes from Derek as he forces the next words from the script out.

“I’m going to make you feel so good.” He rakes his fingers through Derek’s hair as he gets into position behind him.

He knows it’s a line from the script but it’s also a personal promise. He’s going to make this good for Derek, camera or no camera. Derek turns his head to look at him, Stiles silently asking for his permission, because Derek’s calling the shots here really. He gets a nod.

“Do it, Stiles, please. I need–“ Then he clears his throat and amongst it all that’s what relaxes Stiles and makes him smirk “Fuck me. Make me your mate.”

Stiles gives in to his urge and starts to nudge Derek’s rim, script be damned. Hey, Heather’s the one who said improvising was good for business, he’s just following her advice. Derek gives him a confused look when Stiles turns him over and puts him on his back, biting down on the side of his neck.

He leaves a trail of wet kisses all the way to his ear and whispers, just for him “I wanna see you.”

Then he’s pushing in. Derek’s throws his head back and Stiles watches his face closely through as much vision his fluttering eyelids can muster.

Derek lets out a long, loud groan that mixes with a whine, his face pinched in effort for a few seconds before his entire expression relaxes, leaving his teeth showing through his open mouth and Stiles pauses for a minute just to watch. When Derek opens his eyes he continues to push in.

He pauses again when he’s buried in Derek to the hilt, their chest sweating as they’re pressed close together. When he starts moving, the litany of loud groans and grunts and the slapping of skin on skin overwhelms Stiles’ ears. His other senses are being overwhelmed by Derek.

Without thinking he grabs Derek’s hand and intertwines their fingers, pushing his entire body into the mattress, his hips unrelenting. He wishes he could do this tortuously slow, make it last, but he doesn’t dare. The script said hard and fast and that’s how Stiles is going to do it. That’s what it is, a fuck in the woods.

Derek’s free hand digs into Stiles’ hair and he pulls it hard, guiding Stiles to an open mouthed kiss. Stiles pulls his hair as payback and they both smile around a satisfied groan. Derek kisses Stiles’ chest and when Stiles stands up and digs his blunt fingernails onto Derek’s pecs, Derek comes with a scream.

Stiles takes the chance to give a few more harsh thrusts and when Derek pulls him down by the hair to share another filthy kiss, he follows.

White spots dance in his eyesight and Stiles has to blink several times to get rid of them. When he can finally see all he can focus on is Derek’s sunny smile. Stiles falls down right there on top of him, hearing the thundering of Derek’s heartbeat mixing with his own, Derek’s sweat sticking to his face in a wonderful way, the rise and fall of Derek’s chest as he sucks in deep breathes and then laughs.

“Oh my god, that was–“

“Something.” Derek finishes, reaches out to move the hair from Stiles’ eyes that’s kind of glued to his forehead because of the sweat.

Stiles bring a hand up to caress Derek’s shaved chin and Derek closes his eyes and licks the fingertips he can reach and that’s when Stiles nearly falls down the bed because he knows. He just knows. He almost laughs about how fucked up it is that this is how he decided to notice it.

He’s in love with Derek.

Stiles knows what love has done to Derek before and he can’t…He can’t scare him.

So what's left to mean is that he just fucked it up.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

They remain lying down for a few more minutes because Derek jokingly tells Boyd he can’t move just yet. Well, it’s not really a joke, his legs feel weak and wobbly and he’s sure he’s going to need a cane to get out of the loft.

Turns out all he needs is a few more minutes so he can wrap his mind over what just happened and keep his body functioning. What just happened is that he just had sex with Stiles. Bodies sweating, hand-holding, biting sex. With Stiles. Derek’s body may be able to function after twenty minutes but his brain is going to need a little more time.

Derek loved it, and when he kissed Stiles’ fingertips he knew it wasn’t the sex he realized he had missed on all this time. It was Stiles. Derek was incorrigibly in love with Stiles.

The weirdest part though…The weirdest part is how calm Derek is about his realization. Sure, his heart beat a little faster when he proposed it to himself, his breath getting a little shallower. It was frightening is what it was, realizing he was in love again, realizing he wanted to give another person his all again, the ever present worry that he might be let down again.

He thinks this will work, he honestly does. He believes it will work.

 

Until Stiles starts avoiding him.

After their scene, after everyone had helped clean up (after Scott had patted him on the shoulder with this understanding look, because of course he saw it, if anyone was bound it it would be Scott), Derek expected Stiles to sit him down. He expected the easy banter back that would eventually lead to something…Anything. A more private repetition, maybe? Even just a talk. Derek’s not good with feelings but he’s willing to give it a try for Stiles.

His expectations are lowered when Stiles smiles at him, but it feels forced. They make their way back to their apartment and Stiles talks about what’s left to do of the project but he obviously avoids mentioning them even when Derek tries to bring it up. Stiles touches none of his expectations, so Derek doesn’t push.

After two weeks, the deadline of the lease nearing (and another visit from Harris which unfortunately, or fortunately since Harris appears to be calmer with Derek for some reason, Stiles wasn’t there to witness) it’s pretty obvious Stiles is avoiding him.

First comes the obvious courses of action, Stiles tells him he needs to direct Danny and Matt on the editing, which takes a while; then he says he has to visit Heather and give her the finished product, which takes a night and stretches to a early hour of the next day, leaving Stiles tired and obviously not in the mood for serious talks; then Stiles is simply busy and only then does Derek realize Stiles’ apologizes have turned into excuses. That’s when the doubt starts creeping in. Maybe Derek read too much into the whole thing and Stiles, being Stiles, realized that and is letting him down easy.

He misses them though, misses their exchanged snark, Stiles’ voice, their overall Stiles and Derekness as Isaac describes it. Dammit, he just wants to talk to Stiles, even if the conversation doesn’t take the direction he really wants it to.

One night, after yet another vague text message from his roommate, Derek is saved from eating yet another dinner alone from Scott and Erica who lets themselves into the apartment and sit down at the table.

“Stiles is in love with you and he’s scared.” Erica points out as she gets her hands on the brownies he’s baked yesterday.

Yes, Derek bakes when he’s upset, shut up Stil– Oh. Right.

Derek looks at Scott with a raised eyebrow and Scott shrugs.

“We were supposed to ease you into this conversation” He shoots a look at Erica who flips him the bird “but that’s pretty much it.”

Derek lets his head fall into his hands, elbows resting on the table.

“He’s avoiding me. I saw a duffle bag the other day…I think he’s leaving.” He’s leaving him, he doesn’t want him, not that way, right?

Scott pokes his elbow and smiles at Derek.

“Do you want him gone?”

Derek huffs out a mirthless laugh at stares at him “Does it look like I want him anywhere that’s not near me?”

Scott’s laughter as he shakes his head throws him back a little, lessening his anger “Mason’s right, you guys are intense, man.”

Erica squeezes Scott’s thigh too hard, making him hiss and jump, leaving crumbles all over the floor.

“What Scott means is you have to talk. Talk, for fuck’s sake. Talking is good for you, Derek. If you don’t want him to leave, you will talk to him. Then you’ll thank us.”

When they leave Derek spends the night wide awake waiting for the click of the hallway door opening. He falls asleep before he hears it.

The next day he comes home earlier because he Scott and Erica’s visit (and Lydia’s call. And Allison and Boyd cornering him at the gym) were a sort of wake up call. He knows Stiles will be home.

When he gets into their apartment Stiles is about to turn the knob. There’s that infuriating duffle bag on his shoulder.

Stiles looks like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes open wide and mouth searching for the correct words to say in this situation. Derek doesn’t want to hear more excuses, he doesn’t care right now that Stiles was just going to up and leave him without prior warning, which of their friends Stiles was planning to stay with, how he most certainly was planning on sending the lease’s money to Derek via another of their friends. That’s not what he needs to hear Stiles say.

Stiles is scared, but so is Derek. He’s terrified.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Erica’s words though. He doesn’t want Stiles to leave. But the matter of fact is, Stiles wants to leave. And Derek…Derek would give Stiles anything he wanted. He knows that now. Probably always did.

He takes small comfort that Stiles pauses next to him, looks him in the eyes and nods. Derek nods back, throat clutched with indecision. Stiles nods again before he opens the door and drags himself out.

The door clicks shut and Derek’s heart breaks. He can feel his nose prickling with intent when the door suddenly opens again, nearly knocking him in the back.

“I can’t do it! God, I’m such a coward but I can’t do it! Not like this, not without words which we both know I’m very good at.”

Derek gazes at Stiles for a while, noting the rapid raising and falling of his chest, his heavy breathing, the way his hair sticks up from where he grabs it to then let his hand drop.

“You want to leave.” Derek says because dammit, he needs to be sure, needs to know for certain that this is what Stiles has deemed best for himself so he can respect it and move on.

Huh. Who’s he trying to fool? He’ll probably respect it and curse himself for it for the rest of his life. A life without Stiles if that’s what the person in question wants would be hell but it still would be the right thing to do.

He waits for an answer, but the slight hesitation followed by a hard bob Stiles’ Adam’s apple is mostly what he knows that’s what Stiles usually does when he’s choosing his words carefully, when he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing or of coming up with an obvious lie.

“Not like this, with just a nod and not even a goodbye.” He repeats, arms flailing wildy “Not when it comes to y– It just feels wrong, after everything we’ve been through.”

And that’s when Derek knows for sure this is it, this is his chance, most likely his last.

He’s sick of letting everything go, of forgetting, of not going after what he himself wants. So this time, with Scott’s words echoing in his mind (and well, Scott is Stiles’ best friend after all, which gives Derek a little confidence boost) he’s going to run after it rather than from it.

“You’re not leaving.” He announces a little too harshly. He can already see Stiles pursing his lips as if about to arguing (probably to say Derek isn’t the boss of him like he’s done many times before) but he raises his hand in a silent plea before he can and Stiles visibly sags “Plus, if anyone was going to move out it would be me. This house was yours first.”

Stiles straightens up at this “But now this house is just as much yours as it is mine.”

“You shouldn't be leaving.” Derek corrects himself, putting his hand on Stiles’ chest and pushing him slightly back towards the kitchen but he knows it’s only because Stiles allows it “Not until we talk. If you still want to leave after that…You’re free to do so.”

Stiles sighs and throws his hands up but he lets Derek take the duffle bag from him (he throws it none too gently on the couch because he can’t stand the sight of the thing right now) and lead him inside.

Stiles braces himself against the kitchen counter, hands tightening at its edge.

“What do you even want to talk about?”

“Let’s start with, why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry at you. I’m just–“ Stiles looks away and Derek gets closer, not daring to get close enough to touch Stiles though, because he knows what he needs to do first.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t need to push much before Stiles starts talking. He looks tired when he does so, and Derek hopes he’s just tired in the sense he is, tired of fighting back everything.

“What we did– It just– It was– How we did it–“ Stiles sighs “I know you said it wouldn’t change but that’s exactly why I can’t keep living here. I’d die. I’m sorry, I know it’s shit timing. But anyways, the filming’s over and when it comes out maybe you’d be able to pay the entire lease by your own and you won’t. You won’t need me.”

“When has that ever been true?”

Stiles startles when Derek’s voice comes from closer, Derek’s so close. He’s not even one step away.

“What?”

“Even when I was denying it to myself, when have I ever not needed you?”

Now Derek is the one frowning at him and Stiles doesn’t know what to say. Hey, first time for everything.

“That’s why I’m saying we should talk.” Derek runs a hand through his hair “We keep assuming things. Trying to figure each other out instead of listening to each other, and I mean really listening, not just behind doors and words from other people’s mouths.”

Derek takes a deep breath before looking Stiles straight in the eye. He’s close enough that Stiles doesn’t have a chance to not face him.

“I know how your self esteem is, but you can’t…You can’t seriously not see what’s right in front of you. Your powers of deduction are the best I know. You’re probably able to see through my fucking heart.” Derek huffs out a laugh.

Stiles gulps.

“Maybe I’m just wondering if all the wishful thinking and hope are clouding my judgment.”

“Then I’m wishfully thinking a lot too.”

Stiles stares at Derek before he feels his lips part into a huge grin. He almost can’t believe this is happening. Derek talked to him so openly he…Derek wants him.

Derek pulls him closer and Stiles has to brace his forearms on the cupboard above them, because Derek is practically holding him up, holy shit. This is even better than any scenario he could have envisioned.

“How about we do this for real, no cameras, no scripts?” Stiles catches his breath.

It takes almost nothing, just a second before Stiles hops off the counter and starts walking backwards.

“What’re we waiting for?” He asks as he strips off his shirt and throws it somewhere at the kitchen floor.

Derek licks his lips and Stiles backs into a chair. Derek laughs out loud, but it doesn’t stop Stiles from running into the bedroom (he doesn’t even see whose is it, they’re both theirs now) and it doesn’t stop Derek from chasing him there, playfully slapping his ass and throwing him on the bed when they get there and kissing him until they can’t take it anymore.

Though, Stiles is pretty sure, he could do this forever.

Derek agrees.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Against Derek’s protests, Stiles has them wait for until the day of the deadline for their lease’s next payment just so he can have the pleasure of this time, shoving a fat envelope full of cash on Harris’ chest. The look on his face as he counts the money is worth it.

The look on Derek’s face when Stiles turns to him after pushing the door closed is something money could never buy.

 


End file.
